


Hearts of Glass and Stone

by EzriHinterland04



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twilight Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Human!Yuuri, M/M, i guess, more characters to be introduced - Freeform, more tags as we go, somewhat like twilight, vampire!Victor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzriHinterland04/pseuds/EzriHinterland04
Summary: His cerulean and arctic blue eyes bore into mine as he stalked closer to me like a predator. His eyes were wide and wild, holding no human emotion. It was almost as if he wasn’t human at all. It was hard to tell whether he was a demon or an angel, but I was terrified. I stood stock-still, not even daring to breathe lest he pounces and sinks his bared white teeth into me. I knew that if I were to turn and run, he would catch me faster than I could scream. His face was obscured, unfocused, but I could tell that he had silver hair that hung over one eye that shimmered in the moonlight. His eyes were what I was so focused on. They were probably the last things that I will ever see in my life. However, upon further inspection of his deadly, yet strangely beautiful eyes, I could tell that he was sad. His eyes held a sadness that nearly won out the hunger that was unmistakably there. The deep sadness was hard to ignore.





	Hearts of Glass and Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I understand that Twilight has a somewhat negative look in the media, but I am still inspired to write this twist!  
> Please let me know what you think! <3  
> English is not my first language.

Chapter 1

  
  


His cerulean and arctic blue eyes bore into mine as he stalked closer to me like a predator. His eyes were wide and wild, holding no human emotion. It was almost as if he wasn’t human at all. It was hard to tell whether he was a demon or an angel, but I was terrified. I stood stock-still, not even daring to breathe lest he pounces and sinks his bared white teeth into me. I knew that if I were to turn and run, he would catch me faster than I could scream. His face was obscured, unfocused, but I could tell that he had silver hair that hung over one eye that shimmered in the moonlight. His eyes were what I was so focused on. They were probably the last things that I will ever see in my life. However, upon further inspection of his deadly, yet strangely beautiful eyes, I could tell that he was sad. His eyes held a sadness that nearly won out the hunger that was unmistakably there. The deep sadness was hard to ignore. It was as if he was having some inner conflict with himself. I almost felt pity for my demon or angel assassin. Once the predator was within arms reach from me, I found my breath and mobility. I stumbled backward away from his reach. My back hit a large tree as I tripped on the forest floor. My glasses nearly slipped off my face as I started sweating. I stared back into his eyes once more to only find that the sadness in his eyes had beaten out the animalistic hunger. I pushed myself closer to the tree as he approached me. I slid down the tree as I started hyperventilating erratically. Once he was directly above me, I saw a kind smile on his face. It was if he went from a demon-like predator to a sweet and kind angel. My breathing completely stopped and I felt myself blacking out. He knelt down to my eye level and reached out a hand to caress my cheek softly. His fingers were cold like ice, but there was warmth in the gesture. He leaned in closer, with a sad smile on his lips. I felt tears sliding down my cheek. Black spots invaded my vision. I was conflicted. I felt like I should be afraid of him, yet at the same time, I felt like I could trust him with my life. Once his nose had brushed against mine, I completely slipped into unconsciousness. 

The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was, “Do not be afraid of me. You will see the truth in time.”

 

\------------

 

I woke with a sharp start. My hand snapped to my cheek where I felt his hand. My cheek was burning. My breathing was shallow and fast. I quickly looked around me and found that I was in my room, sitting upright in my bed. There was barely any light outside, so it was probably still too early for me to get ready for school. I slumped back down on my pillow trying to contain my breathing. My hand was still on my cheek. My forehead was warm and wet with my sweat. 

It was just a dream, I kept telling myself.  _ He  _ was just a dream. It felt so  _ real. _ I was out of breath and sweating as I did in the dream. I could still feel his icy touch that had seeped into my skin. My blankets were twisted around my legs so I took a moment to unbury myself. A few seconds later, my phone’s alarm went off. I sighed as I heaved myself off of my bed and stretched until my back popped. I knew that my family wasn’t awake yet, except for my mom. I went to the kitchen to greet her. The kitchen was my mother’s sanctuary. She used to tell me stories of how she learned to make different kinds of food from her grandmother. Since we have moved to Russia, Mom has been cooking Japanese food from home, even though some ingredients that she uses are hard to find in St. Petersburg. She was making breakfast as I walked in. On the table was a teapot with steam billowing out of the spout. The fruity and earthy aroma beckoned me to the table as I took a seat. 

“Ohayo gozaimasu,” my mother said cheerfully as she set down a plate and bowl of fish, vegetables, berries, and rice. She gave me a hug around my shoulders. I poured myself some tea and said grace. My mother went back to the stove, her back to me now as she prepared food for the rest of my family. “Are you excited for the first day of school, Yuuri?”

In a way, I was. The high school that I enrolled in was focused on the arts. They had many different clubs for students to join if they desired, including ballet. The school’s academics was nothing to scoff at either. I was excited that I would be given a challenge as well as pursue dance. 

 

What I wasn’t excited about was joining the school in the middle of March. I was a senior and was looking forward to graduating from my old school back in Hasetsu with my old friends. I was going to be the “new kid” and I didn’t look forward to it. Not only did I look like a dork, I  _ was _ one. Blue rimmed glasses, round face, a slightly chubby body that could probably lose a few pounds were just some of the things that made me take on the dork appearance. 

 

“Yeah, I guess,” I answered. Once my food was done, I realized that I needed to be at school early. I placed my dishes in the sink and gave Mom a kiss. I bounded up the stairs to my room to get ready to leave. 

We didn’t live that far away from the school. It was maybe a mile one way. However, walking in snow slowed me down a bit. I was not used to this kind of weather. Once the school was in sight, I hitched up my backpack and checked the time. It was still forty-five minutes before I had to be in my first class. I first had to stop at the office to sign in and receive my schedule. The parking lot was slowly filling up with cars and bikes were lining up on several racks. Wondering students filled the halls as I made my way passed the lockers looking for the office. Once there, I approached the tall desk where a slender and angular woman with a tight blonde bun sat typing away at her computer. She didn’t notice my presence. I cleared my throat softly. She looked at me and raised a perfect eyebrow at me.

“Da? What can I help you with?” She had a strong accent of course. I had only been in Russia for a week and I thought that I would never get used to the accent. I knew the language of course. I had taken Russian at my old school. However, I still couldn’t get the accent down. 

“Uh, yes.” Very eloquent. “I am n-new here. It’s my first day. My name is Yuuri Katsuki. Can I get my schedule please?”

She looked at me sternly, no doubt she judged me silently. She swiveled around in her chair and reached into a filing cabinet. She flicked a paper over the desk. “Make sure your professors sign this paper and bring it back to the office at the end of the day. Your locker number is 413.”

 

“T-thank you,” I mumbled. I grabbed the paper and left quickly. The hallway filled up with students rapidly. It took awhile to maneuver through the crowd of teenagers to find my locker. My backpack was filled with all of my textbooks and notebooks so I occasionally bumped into people. Once I got to my locker and placed everything in it, I glanced at my schedule. 

 

**Monday-Friday**

First period: Physics. 

Second period: Calculus 2. 

Third period: Russian Modern History. 

Fourth Period: Lunch. 

Fifth period: Language Arts

Sixth Period: Club activities

Seventh Period: Club activities

Eighth Period: Elective

 

I was shocked that I had two hours of club activities. It was almost time for the first period so I packed three notebooks and the first three period’s textbooks into my backpack. I checked my schedule again to see what room numbers I needed to go to. The school had three buildings. The main building had all of the academic classrooms and school lockers. The other two buildings were for club activities. The main building was called Building A, so any classroom number was called 1A or 2A or 45A to indicated that the classroom was in the main building. The second building, Building B, was where all the dance and theatrical clubs were. In Building C, there was the fine arts, writing arts, and musical arts club rooms. Each building had the same number of lockers so the student could have the same locker number to put their club supplies in. 

 

My first class, Physics, was in room 105A. That was on the first floor. Unfortunately, the class was on the other side of the building from my locker and I only had four minutes to get there and have a seat. I made it in time before the bell rang. I quickly found a seat in the back of the classroom near the window. Physics was a fascinating subject that I had grown to excel at. Once the professor started the lecture, I learned that they weren't even close to what I was studying back in Hasetsu. They were at least four units behind. The first two periods passed in a blur. Once I was in my third-period classroom, someone actually talked to me. 

 

“Oh! Are you the new guy?”

 

I quickly turned to look at the person who asked and nodded slightly. “Yes,” I answered softly. Once I got a good look at the boy who had approached me, I nearly blanched. He was Japanese too!

 

“Wow! What’s your name?” The boy looked like a sophomore. He was a head shorter than me and had bright blonde hair with a lock of it dyed red. He had bright brown eyes that seemed to be sparkling as he looked up at me. “My name is Minami Kenjirou. It’s nice to meet you. People have been talking about you all day. You’re from Japan too, right? Where are you from in Japan? Do you know Russian?”

I blinked several times, trying to understand the small person. Were people talking about me? Why? Was it because I was a new student? Or was it because they want to bully me? I had no way of knowing. 

 

“Well,” Minami pushed. “What’s your name?”

 

“Oh,” I dumbly responded. “Katsuki Yuuri.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you! Would you like to sit next to me and my friends at lunch today?” The small boy looked hopeful. It would be nice to not sit alone at lunch so I agreed. We walked to the cafeteria where the lunch special was some kind of red soup. However, my mother packed me a lunch. I sat down across from Minami as more of his friends piled onto the table. One of his friends even took a picture of me with a flash and declared that I was going to be in the school paper since they were part of the photography club. After internally freaking out and pleading for them not to, they rescinded. The conversation about the school and bickering between Minami’s friends continued. They asked me several questions about myself, including how I was settling in Russia, what my favorite class was, and what I liked to do for fun. Minami pointed out the people to avoid and people who were nice to talk to when I saw  _ them.  _

Two figures entered the cafeteria, hand in hand. One was tan and short, and the other was tall and white. The tan boy had soft brown hair and chocolaty eyes while the other had black hair and black eyes. They were extremely beautiful. The tan boy was smiling and leading the other to a table near the window. Minami noticed that my attention was averted. 

“Who are they?” I asked curiously. The boys looked to be my age, maybe a little younger. The tall white-skinned one looked blank as if he had no emotions whatsoever. 

 

“Oh, they are Doctor Feltsmen’s foster kids. The tan one, that’s Phichit. He’s really weird.” Just as he said that Phichit raised the dark-haired boy’s arm and twired under it. “And that’s Seung Gil, the boy who looks like he is in pain. It’s weird because they are, like, together. They are dating and they are foster siblings. It’s just weird.” The two reached their table and had a seat. “They came here about two years ago from Asia. I think Seung Gil is from South Korea and Phichit is from Thailand, I think.” They turned to the door and I followed their gaze. There, three more absurdly beautiful people entered. One was a red-headed girl with ruby lips and wore heels. Her hair was short but wavy. She had a kind smile as she teased the boy next to her. The shortest was a boy with golden shoulder length hair with an angry frown set on his face. He wore a leopard print jacket with his hood up. The other man was tall, but not as tall as the woman. He had a brunette undercut with a dirty blonde on the top of his head. His hazel eyes were filled with mischief and glee. 

“What about them?” I asked. The trio was making their way to the couple sitting at the window. 

 

“More foster kids,” Minami answered. He leaned in close to whisper more gossip. “The short blonde and the tall red-head are from Moscow. The other, Christophe, is from Switzerland. He’s a senior, like you. Be careful around him; I heard that he’s a playboy if you know what I mean.”

 

“What are the other’s names?” The trio reached the table with their ‘adopted siblings.’ The grumpy blonde slumped down in an available chair next to Seung Gil, while the red-haired beauty sat next to Phichit. Chris, however, stayed standing, posture perfect. 

 

“The red-haired woman is Mila. She’s a junior. She’s drop-dead gorgeous. And the short blonde is Yuri. Almost like your name, but Russian. He has a short temper, so you best steer clear of him.” 

 

I observed them from across the room for a long minute. They seemed too perfect to be real. I almost saw a resemblance between my angel assassin from my dream, but I cleared that from my mind quickly. These were just pretty Russians. Looking around the cafeteria, I noticed that there were a lot of beautiful people. Then, there was me. A slightly chubby dork with glasses with a pig-like face. To me, everyone in the room was more beautiful than I was. 

 

“And that’s Viktor,” Minami tapped on my arm. I turned to the door and saw a tall silver-haired man approach the table near the window. I only saw his front side for a second before his back was totally to me. He was handsome. I could feel myself blush slightly at the sight of the back of his broad shoulders. His hair looked silky to the touch and the way he walked with confidence was too graceful to be human. But there he was,  _ human.  _

 

The man sat down with his back to me. He had started a conversation with his party of five. I kept my eyes locked on the back of my head. Something was off about him. Minami tapped my arm again. “Your face is red. Are you alright Yuuri?”

 

At the mention of my name, The silver-haired man snapped his head to the side. Minami’s face was in my view, but I kept my focus on Viktor. From across the room, I could tell that his eyes were electric blue. I could only see one, but I was still mesmerized. 

 

“Y-yeah,” I answered dumbly. “I’m alright. Thanks for telling me.” I put on a fake smile and the conversation changed back to what his friends were talking about. 

 

A few hours later, I changed in the locker room to prepare for my first club activity, ballet. The club advisor told me that they were in the middle of a production with the drama club and that it was too late for me to have a role. I expected that, but I was still cast in the role of a minor understudy for any male ballet dancer if they couldn’t make any of the shows. I was also a background dancer, so I needed to learn all of the dances by June when the production will be held. One of the dance studios where I was assigned was 21B. I entered and nearly jumped out of my skin. The short blonde haired boy was dancing around the empty room in front of the mirrors. He was so graceful and lithe, that if someone didn’t already know how grumpy he was in the cafeteria, they would have mistaken him for an innocent freshman. 

 

However, my cover was blown. The boy stopped dancing as soon as I stepped into the studio. He gave me a glare that sent shivers down my spine. 

 

His rough Russian accent made me jump slightly. “Oi, piggy! Just so you know, I am the only one here worthy enough to be called Yuri! And stay out of my way!”

 

I blinked several times before I nodded. Just as he was about to say something else, the club advisor walked in with several students in tow. Many of the students gave me curious looks as they passed me. The advisor told us to stretch at the barre. I chose someplace far from where the ill-tempered blonde was. After that, the advisor did something I was dreading all day. In my other classes, I got away with not having to introduce myself in front of the class. However, it was not the case in ballet. 

 

“We have a new student here with us today. I looked at his last school’s report and I am proud to say that we have a talented newcomer! However, since he has joined very late in the year, he will not have a leading role in the production.” The teacher sounded genuinely disappointed with that fact. I wanted to hide in a hole in the ground once everyone’s eyes were boring into mine. ‘We must get him up to speed on our dances, and what better way to do that than to pair you up with our prima ballerina?”

 

I heard a loud groan from across the room, and to my chagrin, Yuri was the one who groaned and stomped over to me. “Fine! I’ll train the piggy, but you owe me, Katerina!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the advisor didn’t sound too scared of the short boy.

 

The training took off without any interruption. The rest of the class practiced on a different piece of the ballet. Yuri wanted to see what I could do. He shouted out different moves for me to do then rudely critiqued everything I did.

 

“Your left leg is sloppy! Again!” I tried again. “Wow, an improvement!” he said sarcastically. “You went from just  _ looking _ like a pig to  _ moving  _ like a pig.” 

 

I got fed up with his bullshit quickly. I kept glaring at him but that didn’t seem to do anything. I couldn’t believe that one of my favorite things to do was turning out to be my least favorite two hours of my day. Once he was done making his cruel remark on my artistry, I snapped. 

“Could you at least find something good about what I’m doing? Because all you seem to be good at is complaining!”

 

He blinked a couple of times. I bet he didn’t expect me to shout back at him at all. I started to blush and turn away, fearing a nuclear explosion, but none came. I looked back at him and he had this soft look on his face, which almost crept me out more. 

“At least you’re not as stupid as the others,” he murmured. Before I could ask him what he meant, the bell rang, signaling that the period was over. He turned on his heel and stormed off, an angry frown set upon his face once more. 

 

I quickly showered away the sweat and rushed to the last class of the day, my elective. I had decided to try out a writing class in Building C. It wasn’t a club, per say, but it was something I never really thought of doing until now. I have always enjoyed reading. I thought that I was creative enough to take the class. I made it just in time before the bell went off. I was the last one there, hair still dripping and cold. I had pushed my bangs back from my face since it was wet. The professor looked at me and told me to take a seat in the only available spot. A spot right next to someone I didn’t expect. 

 

Viktor was looking at me as if I had spat in his face. His hand was covering most of his face and it looked like he gagged. So much for self-esteem. I took a seat next to him and it seemed as though he shrunk away from me. He gripped his pencil so tightly in his hand that I could see the defined muscles in his hand. Did I smell? Was that why he was acting this way? I leaned down to smell my armpit, trying to remember if I had put on deodorant after my shower. I did, so why did he do that?

 

The professor explained that the person that we shared a table with would be our partners for the rest of the school year. We were supposed to develop a short novel over the course of the next few months and have our partners edit the work. Just great. I shouldn’t have enrolled in the class. Who knows how great of a writer Viktor was and how bad of a writer I might be? This was just perfect. 

 

Viktor must have known that I was new to the school because he shoved over his notebook with a red pen in my direction without expecting me to do the same with my work. I took his notebook and began to read the first chapter. 

 

I had to reread some sentences to get the true meaning across. He was an  _ excellent  _ author! However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he used words as if he was from a different time. He was very eloquent. His  _ handwriting _ was eloquent. Once he reads my story, he might laugh in my face. That is assuming that he won't gag at my presence. 

 

I didn’t have to use the red pen at all. His grammar was unbeatable.His structure was rock-hard and stable. There was no fault in his work. 

 

 Once the bell rang, he snatched his notebook back while I was in the middle of a sentence and he took off out the door. I thought that being around Yuri was going to be the worst part of my day. I was wrong. The last hour with Victor nearly throwing up at the sight of me took the cake. I was _livid._ I wanted to confront him and ask him what his deal was. Part of me was ready to do so, however, something stopped me. Maybe it was my lack of confidence, but I was almost certain that it would be a bad idea to follow him right now. The way he looked at me as I first entered the room was almost like the way my angel assassin looked at me in the first half of my dream. I didn’t want to see that look on anyone’s face ever again, no matter how pretty Viktor was. It would be best to avoid him, I thought. But, there was a small part of me, the insane part no doubt, that wanted to understand why he had acted that way. Hopefully, that crazy part of me wouldn’t win over. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos!  
> If there are any grammar mistakes, please let me know!


End file.
